


Failure to Communicate

by tresa_cho



Series: '69 Chevy 'verse [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Food Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/pseuds/tresa_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones continue to work through lingering communication issues with some well placed food and a bit of yelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure to Communicate

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about from the overwhelming response to the initial kink meme fill. This may or may not turn into a series. Thank you so much for your enthusiasm.

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse.

Leonard shifted restlessly on the couch, letting himself groan in discomfort. The weather was turning for the winter, and the rain pattered relentlessly against his windows. His scar fuckin _hurt_. He knew that his Gram used to complain about the weather effecting her joints but he had never honestly believed her. He thought it was an old wife's tale. Apparently it was all too true...

The door slammed open, startling him, and he grimaced.

“Bones! Bones?” Jim pounded into his apartment with all the solemnity of a bull in a china shop. He came to a halt at the couch. “Hey,” he said, his voice much softer.

“Hey back,” Leonard said. Jim's hand found his chest, warm and heavy.

“Hurting?” Jim massaged the sore muscles around Leonard's shoulder and he groaned. “The doctors said a hot shower can loosen up the muscles on days like this.”

“That would involve moving,” Leonard said. Jim frowned, pushing up from his crouch.

He disappeared into the bathroom and Leonard heard the water pressure jump in the old pipes. Jim returned with a wet cloth. He knelt beside the couch and removed the textbook from Leonard's chest before quickly working open the buttons of his shirt. Folding the shirt back, he pressed the cloth to bare skin. Leonard hissed at the heat, but Jim pressed harder, working heat into the aching scar.

“Physiology sucks, doesn't it?” Jim asked softly. Leonard closed his fingers around Jim's wrist, feeling his pulse thunder under the thin barrier of skin. “Has it been bad all day?”

“Yeah.” Leonard's chest loosened and he sank into the couch, his eyes fluttering shut. The hot cloth was shortly chased by the press of Jim's lips to his warmed skin, sending his heart racing as the brief touches climbed along his skin. He lifted his head in time to catch Jim's mouth.

Jim climbed onto the couch over him, his hands running along the hard planes of Leonard's chest. Any thought of pain was immediately purged from Leonard's mind when he heard Jim's soft whine. Leonard reached for Jim's shirt, brushing his knuckles along firm skin at Jim's ribs. Jim huffed gently against his lips. Leonard rose to meet Jim's mouth, and pressed his fingers into Jim's back, urging him closer.

The choked grunt of pain was unexpected. Leonard froze, and opened his eyes to Jim looking guilty.

Leonard scowled and shoved Jim backwards. Jim went willingly, collapsing against the arm of the couch without a sound as Leonard sat up. He yanked Jim's shirt up, and cursed.

“You should see the other guys,” Jim said with a weak laugh.

“God damn it, Jim,” Leonard said. He ran his fingers along the edges of the angry purple-red bruise spreading over Jim's ribs. “I didn't let you come over to patch you up _again_.”

He leveled a critical eye at Jim. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jim hesitated far too long before answering, “Two?”

“ _Damn_ it, Jim!” Leonard shoved Jim against the arm of the couch and stood. “You have a god damn concussion too. What the fuck were you doing this time?”

“Don't be angry, Bones,” Jim said, his voice uncertain. Leonard grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. He stalked back into the living room and tossed them at Jim. Jim pressed the bag to his skull and pouted. “He was beating his girlfriend. What did you want me to do?”

Leonard refused to let himself feel guilty. “For some reason I don't completely believe you.”

Jim sighed. “He also looked at me funny.”

“How many of them this time?” Leonard asked.

“Six.” Jim slumped against the back of the couch. Leonard just barely restrained himself from a tirade.

“You need to leave,” Leonard said, inhaling shakily. The silence following his order was suffocating. “I'm not your personal physician, Jim,” Leonard said, cutting Jim off. “You can't keep coming to me after your fights, expecting me to patch you up. I can't do it.”

“Bones, that's not-”

“Jim,” Leonard said. “You're self-destructing and you won't let me help you. I need you to leave.”

Jim closed his mouth and was silent. He stood and Leonard heard him walk into the kitchen to replace the bag. The front door opened, closed, and he was gone.

Leonard picked up his textbook from the floor, ignoring the twinge in his scar as he moved. He reclined, trying to find a comfortable position against the depressed cushions, and opened the book. He ignored the way his hands shook as he read.

...*...

Pounding at his door jerked him from sleep sometime later. He blinked, realising darkness had fallen in his crappy apartment. A quick glance at his watch confirmed it.

“Shit.” He had taken a five hour nap. Not in the game plan for tonight. He sat for a moment, disoriented. Something banged on his door again, and he jumped. “Coming!”

He stood on unsure legs and trudged to the door. He opened it and froze.

“Yo.” Rick gave him a mock salute in greeting. And hanging off his shoulder was-

“Bones,” Jim slurred with a sloppy grin. “ 'sup Bones?”

“I didn't know where else to bring him besides a jail cell,” Rick said, pushing past Leonard into the apartment. “He destroyed an entire football team down to the third string. Georgia isn't going to have much of a season this year.”

“Rick-” Leonard started. He didn't get very far. Rick deposited Jim on the couch, unsettling his notebooks, and Jim cried out in pain. Despite himself, Leonard was on his knees instantly, searching for the source. The initial sweep uncovered at least two cracked ribs. “He needs a hospital.”

“Can't. He's wanted on seven different charges,” Rick said. “Like I said, I had nowhere else to bring him. You're lucky I was off duty, otherwise you'd be bailing him out of prison.”

“Not likely,” Leonard said.

“Don't tell me you guys got divorced,” Rick said, entering the kitchen to reclaim the bag of peas for Jim.

“We're not married,” Leonard said without any real heat. He brushed away Jim's pawing hands.

“Bones, Bones.” Jim muttered, almost to himself. “ 'm sorry, kay? Please. _Please_...”

“Hush, Jim. I'm not talking about this while you're so drunk you cain't stand,” Leonard said, his voice rough. Rick tossed him the frozen bag.

“I'll let myself out,” he said. Leonard didn't even hear him leave over the sound of his heartbeat.

“Don't move,” Leonard said, pressing a hand firmly to Jim's chest before standing. Jim nodded slowly, his eyes at half mast.

Leonard retrieved his first aid kit (which had grown substantially since taking Jim in) and returned to the couch.

“I need you to sit up, Jim.”

Jim rose with a grimace, breathing harshly. Most likely to stop the room from spinning. Leonard crouched and dumped the kit on the ground. “Take your shirt off,” Leonard said.

Jim obeyed without hesitation.

“Arms up.” Leonard ran his fingers over the cracks one last time to make sure they hadn't shifted, ignoring Jim's pained grunt. He then wrapped Jim's ribs tightly, holding the bones in place so they could heal properly. He worked in absolute silence, not trusting himself to speak. Jim reeked of beer and sweat.

Leonard taped the bandages in place and reached for Jim's chin, turning his head to expose each side to the harsh lamplight. Jim weathered the inspection without sound, the muscles in his jaw tense in Leonard's grasp. As Leonard released Jim's chin, he realised Jim's arms were still up, trembling with the effort of keeping them still. He let his gaze drop, and watched Jim subtly shift, trying to relieve the pressure of his jeans against his thickening cock.

Leonard sighed heavily. He got to his feet. “Stand.”

Jim bounced up so quickly he almost overbalanced, but caught himself just in time.

“Go to the bathroom, sit on the toilet,” Leonard said. Jim immediately followed his instruction, and when Leonard reached the tiny room Jim was already waiting for him, his eyes shining that deep, _wanting_ blue. “Sponge bath tonight, actual shower tomorrow.”

Jim nodded slowly, watching Leonard's every movement with frightening intensity.

Leonard would be lying if he said he didn't like it. Every time Jim went utterly pliant under his hands, accepting and relishing the care and concern- it made Leonard burn from the core of his very being. Jim had a way of drawing him in, making him do things he wouldn't put up with from anyone else. He gave Jim too much leniency, let him get away with way too much.

The sink filled with hot, soapy water, and Leonard dunked a washcloth into it. He wrung it and flopped it on Jim's head, unable to prevent the grin at the ridiculous image Jim made, half naked on his toilet. He suppressed the urge to laugh, and massaged the wet cloth into Jim's hair while Jim hung his head like an admonished child.

Leonard crouched in front of Jim, sliding the washcloth over alcohol-flushed skin. Jim's eyelids drooped, and he leaned into the touch like an overlarge cat, his warmth seeping into Leonard with every stroke. It always came to this with Jim. Always. And, as always, Leonard found himself drawn to Jim's mouth as they clumsily fumbled into a kiss.

Jim's hand rose to cup the back of Leonard's neck, drawing him close. Leonard's fingers curled around Jim's waist, just under the wraps, and he let Jim mold their bodies together.

“Sorry. I'm sorry.” Jim whispered, hot and broken against the line of Leonard's throat.

“Okay,” Leonard said as Jim dropped his head onto Leonard's shoulder. “Okay. Come on.”

He shifted Jim into his arms, a limp, heavy weight as he moved from the bathroom to his sparse bedroom. Jim was unconscious by the time Leonard dumped him onto the mattress and crawled in after him. He stretched over Jim to snatch his phone from the nightstand and set an alarm for two hour intervals. If Jim had a concussion he had to be monitored.

The fourth time his alarm jarred him from sleep, Jim also woke. He rolled into Leonard's chest, and tensed when their eyes met.

“Do you remember when I was in the hospital?” Leonard started, his voice barely a whisper. Jim nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “And you waited, by my bedside? Do you remember how you felt?”

“Like the world would end if you didn't wake up,” Jim said, his voice cracking. Leonard propped himself up on one elbow, letting his other hand rest on Jim's bandaged chest.

“Every time you come back bleeding, that's how I feel,” Leonard said carefully. “Every time I resplint your fingers, or put your shoulder back in, or suture a god damn knife wound-” He cut himself off, inhaling to steady himself. “Every time, Jim. Do you know what that's doing to me?”

Jim covered his eyes with his hands. Leonard touched his lips to Jim's shoulder, waiting, feeling Jim breathe beneath him. He knew the feel of skin on skin grounded Jim, and smoothed his hand over Jim's chest and arms.

“I just had to stop... thinking,” Jim finally said, his voice quiet. “I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin.”

“Are you calmed, now?” Leonard asked.

Jim pushed himself up, the sheets falling away from his skin. He stared at the opposite wall and slowly shook his head. His skin took on a fine tremble under Leonard's touch. Leonard followed him up, pressing against Jim as he spread slow, lingering kisses along the lines of his shoulder and back.

“Hungover?” Leonard asked. Jim nodded with a shiver. Leonard shifted slightly, putting the barest amount of space between them. “Relax.”

With one hand at the back of Jim's neck, and the other just between his shoulder blades, he lowered Jim to the mattress. Leonard soothed light hair back from Jim's forehead and touched a kiss to each temple.

“Do you trust me, Jim?” Leonard asked. Jim hummed slightly, trying to move into the touch. Leonard pressed him down, taking hold of Jim's chin to turn his gaze. “Words, Jim.”

“I trust you, Bones,” Jim said.

“What's your safe word?” Leonard asked.

“Don't need one.” Jim arched into Leonard's touch. Leonard kept him still.

“Jim. What is your safe word?”

“I trust you, Bones.” Jim blinked up at Leonard, a glimmer of his shit-eating grin cracking the surface. Leonard scowled and pushed himself up from the bed. Jim whined in discontent. Leonard ignored him, stripping off the shirt he'd been wearing since yesterday. He threw it at Jim with more force than strictly necessary, and it hit Jim full in the face. “Bones!”

Leonard jerked open a drawer and pulled a clean shirt out. He yanked it on. “This goes both ways, you know,” he said sharply. “You don't just... give yourself up. You have a will, Jim. I'm not forcing you to do _anything_.”

“I want you to,” Jim said, standing, He held Leonard's shirt tight in one hand. “I said I trusted you! What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to be my equal,” Leonard said. “The kind of relationship you want isn't about me taking every god damn thing you have. It's about you willingly submitting to me so that I can give you what you need.”

“I know you can give me what I need,” Jim maintained.

“I don't know your limits, Jim. Every time I try to talk to you about them you dodge the subject! You haven't told me anything about what you like, what you don't like. This isn't something we can just leap into.”

“I have no limits, Bones,” Jim said sharply.

Leonard stared at him, unable to process. “You have limits,” Leonard finally managed. “You have god damn _limits_ , Jim. I won't let you use me to reinforce your lack of self-worth.”

“How am I- Bones, that doesn't even follow-”

“Shut up for one god damn minute, Jim,” Leonard said sharply. “Just shut up. Do you realise how _hard_ I am working not to be- to be _him_?”

Jim fell quiet, his jawline tense. He had gone pale.

“I fucking love you, Jim,” Leonard said, resting an arm against the dresser. His legs suddenly felt weak. He hadn't said it since that day in the park. “I don't want to hurt you and I don't want you to let me.”

He walked out. His scar throbbed, hindering his motion as he reached for the coffee maker. He was fine until he had to reach for a mug over his head. The stretch of muscle ached, and he had to pause, leaning on the counter. Jim approached from behind and leaned into him, fetching the cup from the pantry. He placed the cup on the counter, gentle clink filling the oppressive silence.

Jim's arms encircled him, gripping him close. Leonard could feel Jim's heart pounding through the thin barrier of flesh and cloth.

“Go back to bed, Jim.” Leonard sighed. “I'll bring you coffee and pain killers.”

“Shut up,” Jim said, his voice muffled by Leonard's shoulder. “I'm trying to tell you something. Give me a minute.”

Leonard quieted, listening to the coffee pot gurgle. Finally, Jim shifted slightly. He backed away, and placed his hands on Leonard's arms. Jim turned him so they faced each other. He lifted his hands, eyes closed, face pale.

 _You're the best thing that's ever happened to me_ , he signed. _I know we can make this work._

Leonard covered Jim's shaking hands with his own, drawing them to his lips. He touched gentle kisses to Jim's knuckles and exhaled slowly. “Kneel.”

Jim slid gracefully to his knees. Leonard crouched before him.

“What's your safe word?” he asked.

 _Serenity_ , Jim carefully spelled out with his hands. Leonard touched a hand to Jim's hair and leaned close, his lips brushing over the gentle curve of Jim's ear.

“Words, Jim.”

“Serenity,” Jim said.

Leonard rewarded him with a firm, bruising kiss against his shoulder before sliding behind him. “Again.”

“Serenity.”

Leonard ran his hands down Jim's chest, carefully avoiding pressure on the ribs, and sank his fingers into the warm flesh of Jim's thighs. “Louder.”

“Serenity,” Jim said, his voice ringing against faded linoleum and cracked wood.

Leonard froze, lips barely brushing Jim's skin. He closed his eyes and waited.

“Bones- What- I didn't mean-” Jim finally shifted slightly.

“Do you get how it works, Jim?” Leonard said, squeezing Jim's legs. “You say it, and I will stop. I won't be mad. I won't throw you out. I won't punish you.”

“I know what a safe word is, Bones,” Jim said, irritated.

“Yes. But now you know what happens when you say it with me.” Leonard wrapped one arm around Jim's midriff. “I will never hurt you for protecting yourself. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Jim's voice trembled in his chest. Leonard ignored it and held him closer.

“Let me,” Leonard said, whispering his words along Jim's skin. “Just lean back and let me.”

Jim melted into his arms, and Leonard let his full weight rest against him. He could feel Jim's heart pounding, could feel the fine tremble of his body as he allowed himself this. Jim's head rolled onto his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek to Jim's forehead.

Leonard carefully maneuvered Jim's arms behind his back, taking care not to strain the cracked ribs. He nosed Jim's jaw, kissing a hot trail along his throat. Jim's arms flexed nervously in his hold, and Leonard tightened his grip.

“Stay.” Leonard squeezed Jim's wrists once before standing. Jim closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

Leonard reached for the coffeepot and poured a cup. He set it on the counter before flicking the oven on. Silently, he went about his normal breakfast routine. He cast a glance down at Jim. “Eyes closed.”

Jim obediently shut his eyes, swaying slightly in his position. Leonard opened the fridge and pulled out an orange. He sliced it on the counter and heard Jim shift, the barest slide of fabric in the quiet. “Ah,” Leonard warned, “Don't move.”

The sounds behind him stilled, and Leonard continued cutting the orange. He tossed some egg onto a hot skillet and let it fry, adding bacon and ham to the mix. While they sizzled, he grabbed a plate from the cabinet. Without a word, he dumped the scrambled eggs onto the plate and added the orange slices. He crouched, the plate and mug in hand, and set them on the floor in front of Jim. Then, he sat comfortably, and reached for the plate.

“Open your mouth. Eyes _closed_ , Jim.” Leonard covered Jim's eyes with a hand when they cracked open. Jim pouted but let his mouth drop open.

Leonard used his free hand to place an orange slice on Jim's tongue.

“And bite,” Leonard said with a smile. Jim bit down on the orange. The soft skin punctured and juice slipped along Leonard's fingers. Jim chewed and opened his mouth for the rest, and when Leonard placed it within reach, Jim sucked it into his mouth. He then leaned closer and took Leonard's fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and licking the juice off. Leonard tugged his fingers free and reached for another orange slice.

Jim swept his tongue over Leonard's fingers at the second slice, and warmth flooded Leonard's body. He let the heat build between them, heavy and comfortable, and watched Jim relax into the submission. Leonard fed him, slowly, taking their time with the eggs and oranges. When the coffee was cool enough, he slipped a painkiller onto his tongue and drew Jim to him with the slightest press of two fingers to the underside of his jaw. Jim followed the wordless instruction perfectly, accepting Leonard's lips without hesitation.

The kiss could have melted butter. Leonard had to bite down the moan that forced its way up his throat as Jim parted his lips. Leonard passed the capsule to Jim, and Jim obediently swallowed it. He never questioned what it was, didn't hesitate, just accepted and trusted and-

Leonard reached for Jim's hair and twisted his finger in it, tugging his head back to sink further into Jim's mouth. Jim made a soft noise of discomfort, but otherwise took it. Leonard broke away with great force of will, and reached for the coffee mug as Jim's forehead fell against his shoulder.

He tipped the mug, letting a stream of coffee splash along Jim's spine. It had sat on the counter long enough to cool, and Jim arched at the unexpected sensation. Leonard let the stream slip over Jim's shoulders, coating his arms, before setting the mug down. He set his lips on the darkened trails of skin, licking and sucking away the bitter taste of coffee. His tongue dragged over goose bumps as Jim shivered, though not from cold.

“Ah,” Leonard warned when Jim tried to move with him. “Stay. You're doing so well. My good boy.”

Jim let out a sound that could have been a whimper. Leonard set to work cleaning every drop of coffee from Jim's skin, reveling in the mixed taste of bitter and salt, and the soft slide of Jim's skin under his lips. Jim suddenly stiffened, and Leonard paused.

“Did you just-” Leonard reached for Jim's crotch, and felt wet seeping into the fabric. “You _did_.”

He enclosed Jim in his arms, pulling him tight against his chest. “Oh darlin'.” He breathed over Jim's skin. “You are so beautiful.”

Jim hummed, the sound vibrating through both of them. Leonard massaged his arms and chest, moving Jim's hands from behind his back into a more comfortable position. He nudged Jim's legs, and Jim stretched out with a satisfied exhale.

“All right?” Leonard asked.

“That was amazing,” Jim said, a slight slur in his voice. “I knew you were amazing.”

“Serenity?” Leonard couldn't help asking.

“From that television show. The one with the space cowboys.” Jim's head fell back against Leonard's shoulder. “I always wanted to be an astronaut. Explore space. Just me and the universe.”

Leonard's hands stilled. That was new. He quashed the slight hurt that Jim hadn't mentioned anything before, and said, “What happened?”

“I grew up,” Jim said quietly. Leonard held him tighter. Jim lifted his hands and clasped Leonard's arms. “Thank you.”

Leonard nuzzled Jim's throat. “Let's get you cleaned up and back into bed.”

Jim nodded, and let Leonard help him to his feet.


End file.
